


At her service

by ChocoNut



Series: Many ways to say I love you [52]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 8x4, Confession, F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Missing Scene, Season 8, Smut, The bang that was promised but we were not shown, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 16:02:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19833628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: When they make love for the first time, Jaime decides that pleasuring his lady is of primary importance to him.





	At her service

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is just an excuse for me to hone my smut writing skills, so bear with me if you can :)

_Gods, this really is happening!_

Twitching and sighing with every kiss he placed on her, Brienne lay naked beneath Jaime, her mind swamped with so many emotions at the same time - excitement to, at last, find herself in the arms of the man she loved, apprehension that he might find her undesirable as soon as they got intimate, wanton in her scorching desire for him, and doubtful if she’d be able to satisfy him or not.

Jaime Lannister was a lion in bed, true to his name, the lover in him as aggressive as the warrior he was last night on the battlefield. All he had done so far was kiss her, the effect of which was evident the moment he released her, taking pity after what seemed like hours of feasting on her lips. She could taste her blood on them, the aftermath of his attack, the outcome of his raw display of passion leaving her yearning for more. He gave her no opportunity to come to terms with what was happening, nor did he bother to allow her any recovery time, kissing down her chin and nuzzling her neck the moment his mouth left hers. And all she could do was allow him to take the lead, to follow and surrender, to let go and take what he gave. On one side of her mind was her undying passion for him, while on the other, was this nagging worry, this niggling doubt she couldn’t shake off. And that seemed to have, perhaps, shown up on her face, for he pulled away, eyes full of concern meeting hers. “What’s wrong, wench?”

“Nothing,” she lied, hesitant to voice her innermost thoughts to him.

Jaime frowned, lines of concern creasing his forehead as doubt began to creep into his handsome features. “Are you beginning to have second thoughts about this? Do you not want me?”

“Far from it,” she immediately confessed, her face on fire when the visions in her mind came alive - all that she’d dreamed about on many lonely nights, her dirty fantasies, her deepest darkest secrets. A pleasurable throbbing ensued in her cunt, the mere thought of him getting her all muddled and bothered when she revisited everything she wanted him to do to quell the ache that had been simmering inside her for years, things she was too shy to admit to him, her inhibitions getting the better of her.

Sensing her arousal, he slid on to her, the rough hair on his chest threatening to bruise her sensitive nipples when he rubbed against her. He ran his palm down her face, pausing to take his time with every inch of skin he touched, allowing her to feel him, to let his touch sink deep into her. “What bothers you then?” he asked, gently parting her lips with his thumb.

“You’re my first,” she tentatively voiced her insecurity, “I’m not sure if I can give you what you expect. I’m ugly, inexperienced, and I’m afraid you might regret this tomorrow--”

Jaime crushed her lips with his, pinning her to the bed, and her mind instantly blanked out everything else. He was all that consumed every bit of her, the only thought in every particle of her brain. He went on a rampage once again, biting her lip and thrusting his tongue deep within her mouth, and Brienne was left helpless, squirming under him, desperate for him to relieve her suffering. She wanted to moan, she tried to yell, to scream his name, but he gave her no chance, delving deeper and deeper, his hunger for her, fierce and insatiable. All she could do was kiss him in return, attacking, yet surrendering, giving in, yet retaliating. She sucked his tongue and nipped his lip, struggling for survival, doing everything she could to counter his onslaught. Not one to give in so easily, he skimmed his hand over her front, squeezing her waist and pushing down his weight on her as he fought for control, plunging his tongue harder into her mouth, taking her breath away. Trapped in a hopeless situation, she writhed in agony, flinging her arms around him, one hand lost in his luscious hair while the other glided down his back, coming to rest on to his hips. 

She groped his ass and he kissed her harder, her arousal getting out of her control, and she pulled him closer until there was no gap left between their hot sweaty bodies. He made a throaty noise that was somewhere between lusty and downright indecent when her nails scraped his scalp, and she directed her distress to his hair, allowing her fingers to run riot until it was an adorable mess. She was short of breath, but he went on, tireless, relentless and merciless, his hardness pressing against her hips, the scent of him driving her mad. Sweat and leather, she could make out, and there was something else too, something that was so distinctly male, taking control of her senses as it invaded her nostrils, leaving her thirsting for more.

When he, at last, let go of her, she was left panting against him, clutching his strong arms for support, glad that she was in bed, for if she had been on her feet, she’d have collapsed under the impact of what he had done to her. 

“What would you say to that, my lady?” he asked, burying his face in her neck. “Do you still feel I don’t want you?” he challenged her concern, his irresistibly seductive voice worsening the state her body and mind were in. “I’ve been aching for you for years, wench.”

“I--” She shuddered when his beard rubbed against her soft skin, the wetness between her legs growing alarmingly with every hair that touched her. “I’ve never even kissed a man before you, Ser Jaime.” She fought to keep her voice steady, for he was already a step ahead, launching his next assault, his forefinger beginning its tortuous journey down her neck. A delicate brush of its tips on her skin was all it was, but the power it had to obliterate her defences was unbelievable.

“There’s always a first time, my lady. Only with practice comes experience,” he advised her, his finger dancing around her nipple, circling it and teasing the tip, “and I’m here to help you hone your skills, but only on one condition.”

“What--” she trailed away mid sentence, her voice failing to cooperate when his thumb joined its companion to torture her nipple.

“I swear to do anything you ask of me tonight,” he announced, his deep growl reducing her to a weak, trembling mess, “provided you stop calling me _ser.”_

“It’s--it’s habit,” Brienne said, rather moaned, when he plucked at her nipple, tugging at it and pinching it with no pity, nor consideration for her sanity.

“Then it’s time to change old habits,” he exhaled, sinking his teeth into her collarbone.

She sighed heavily, distracting herself from whatever his mouth was putting her through, gathering her wits to make an attempt at coherent speech, which, with every passing second, was becoming increasingly tedious to manage. “I don’t even know--” she paused, embarrassed, having no idea about how to please a man “--how--I don’t know how to give you what you want,” she admitted the truth. “My Septa always used to say men ought to be kept satisfied in bed--”

“Forget everything your Septa told you,” he dismissed her worry, while still continuing to torment her, “tell me what _you_ want, my lady,” he asked, his warm breath burning into her flesh, “tell me what your deepest desires are, for tonight, I’m at your service.”

“Jaime--” she allowed herself to say his name for the first time, _only_ his name, and he claimed her lips again.

“Let go of your inhibitions, wench,” he whispered into her mouth, grabbing her breast as his cock stood proud and hard, poking into her thighs, “let me show you what it feels like to be a woman. Permit me to give myself to you.”

“Do it, Jaime,” she sighed into his mouth, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue battling hers for dominion, the wine she could taste on him sending a shockwave of intoxication through her. “Touch me,” she demanded, surprised at the extent of her need for him.

“Like this?” he asked, tenderly running his thumb across the injury below her eye. She shut her eyes in bliss, drinking in his soothing touch, for no one had ever done this to her before, but he had no plans to give her a moment’s respite. “Or like this?” he went on, his hand trailing down to the scar on her neck. “I’d like to kiss away all your wounds, wench,” he whispered, bringing his hand further down to another recent cut on her belly, a gift from the Night King’s army. “I want to make you happy.”

“Jaime,” was the only thing that came to her lips, her body reduced to a sweaty pile of flesh, and her mind, a confused mesh of tangled thoughts. 

“I’ve imagined this countless times, wench,” he whispered in her ear as his hand slipped between her legs, “to pleasure you like this.” She let out a soft _‘oh’_ in comprehension of what was happening when he slid a finger into her burning cunt. In he went, as far as he could, and she shook uncontrollably, but he held her, his stump and his body securing her to the bed. “Gods, you’re so wet,” he breathed fire into her ear, another finger joining the first while his thumb found her clit. “Does this please you?” he asked as he began stimulating her to madness.

“Jaime,” she whimpered again, able to say no more than his name or think beyond him. “Kiss me,” she managed at last, grabbing his ass and biting into his shoulder, tasting the sweat on his damp skin.

“Like this?” His mouth was on her neck, and down he dragged his lips, commencing a red-hot trail of searing kisses until he came to a halt between her breasts. “Or like this?” he asked, tonguing her nipple.

“You’re going to kill me,” she weakly complained, kneading his back in desperation as his fingers fucked her like hell.

“I tried once, but failed,” he teased, referring to their duel as he began sucking her nipple, “So I’d very much like to succeed tonight,” he threatened, rubbing her clit. And the effect was immediate and enormous. Her body twisted and jerked in response, the dual assault of his hand and his mouth too much for her to withstand. “I want to see you go to pieces in ecstasy, Brienne,” he made his intent clear, increasing the force of his thrusts as his mouth enclosed her breast.

“Gods!” she cried out, biting her lip hard.

“I want to be the cause of every sigh that escapes your lips, every cry and every scream.” He left little bites on her already red skin as he spoke, “I want to take you on a journey you’ve never experienced before,” he went on, shoving his fingers in and out of her at a violent pace. “I want to be the only thought in your mind right now.”

“Oh, fuck,” she loudly cursed when he brought her to a shattering climax, a feeling she’d only heard about from others, never in her life imagining she’d one day be the recipient of it. “Jaime, I want you to--” the words died when his mouth met hers again, devouring her bruised and battered lips.

“Yes, Brienne?” he prompted, licking away a drop of sweat that had dripped down to her lips.

“Fuck me,” she commanded, surprised initially at her choice of words and the confidence her tone oozed, but she couldn’t help herself, her desire for him breaking down all the safely-guarded walls she’d put up around her for years, destroying every single barrier that had stood between them all along. She pulled him closer, wrapping her legs around him, showing him that she could wait no more. She wanted him inside her, and she wanted it badly.

He slid into her, his first thrust guarded and careful, and she shivered, the sensation unknown, but definitely not unwelcome. “Trust me,” he gently reassured her, kissing her softly on the mouth.

“I do,” Brienne gasped, “with my life, more than anyone else. Take me, Jaime, make love to me,” she urged, her need for him growing firmer and stronger.

He did as she commanded him, going deeper this time, his cock ripping through her maidenhead, and she winced, her tongue between her teeth. “I’ve dreamed of you for years, Brienne,” he told her, capturing her lips again, his tongue twisting into hers as he kissed away her pain. They were truly one now, and all that was left was for them to enjoy each other, the joy of their long-pending union. He slipped out of her, only to take another plunge, and she screamed this time when he filled her completely, never wanting to let go of him, never wanting him to leave. 

“I can’t take this anymore,” she pleaded with him, but he went on mercilessly, his tongue fucking her mouth while he fucked her, driving her to such edges that she feared she might fall.

In and out, out and in, he kept going, each time plunging harder into her, faster and more intense. “I’ve wanted you for years, my lady,” he growled, his hand snaking up to her chest.

“Jaime--” she hoped to get some words out, but he didn’t let her speak.

“I’ve pined for you for years,” he breathed into her lips, squeezing her breast so hard that she screamed his name in pain and delight.

“Ja--” she began, desperate to tell him how she felt, but he pinched her nipple, and all she could manage was a loud guttural cry. 

“You have no idea how much I've missed you,” he cried out, his strokes becoming more aggressive and frantic, “and how much I need you,” he shouted louder, his hips slamming into hers, “you have to know that I--” his words vanished into thin air and all she could feel was the heat in him as his flesh slapped against hers, their bodies so feverishly hot that she feared they might combust.

“Yes, Jaime?” She had to know the end of that sentence, she wanted to hear his unspoken words, the language his eyes had spoken for years.

“I came here for you, my lady, and it is only you that I desire,” he roared, stepping up the assault on her cunt.

Now was the time. She wanted to say it whether he told her or not. “I love you, Jaime,” she confessed, “I’ve loved you for years.” She didn’t want to hold anything back. Not now, not after they had come this far. Putting aside every insecure thought that clouded her head, she decided to give in, to lose herself in his arms. His lust for her took on a tumultuous pace, and she moved with him, meeting him midway, her thrusts rapidly beginning to match his passion. His cock continued to punish her every time he made his way in, and she held on to him for dear life, her nails digging into his firm muscular back.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, wench.” He rammed into her, hitting the right spot once again, bringing about her end with it - a release so explosive that she dissolved into raptures of pleasure with his name on her lips.

For a few glorious seconds, she could see nothing, and she knew nothing. Except Jaime. _Only_ Jaime.

“So do I,” she replied, when she finally found her voice, her senses numbed, and her body battered and spent as she sank back into the mattress, her fingers gently caressing his neck.

“Oh, Brienne!” he gasped loudly, going down on her one last time. His climax left her reeling, sweeping her away with him, his seed flooding her, sealing the truth that they had taken so long to acknowledge and accept.

While they recuperated in each other's arms, her pulse gradually returned to normal, and so did her brain, and with it returned some of her insecurity. She realized with a pang that he had not told her that he loved her. He’d said a lot of things in the heat of the moment, but what if he regretted it once the effect of the wine had worn off?

“Jaime--” she tentatively began, meaning to ask him if she’d been good enough for him, but he was too quick for her, his lips finding hers again, this time his kiss, slow and tender.

“I love you, Brienne,” he finally told her what she’d ached to hear for days, his eyes shining with such love that she’d never seen before, “I always will. I may be drunk, but never before have I been this serious about anything else.”

Brienne smiled coyly as she kissed him back. She had her answer.


End file.
